


Bedfellows

by SeaRoslinFalcon



Category: Battlestar Galactica
Genre: Cannon fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaRoslinFalcon/pseuds/SeaRoslinFalcon
Summary: Here’s the thing... they lived together in his quarters before they were a couple. After the trial and before the epic fight.  I’m unsure if this is multi-chapter or a one-shot.
Relationships: William Adama/Laura Roslin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Bedfellows

Laura imagined a long time ago that she would eventually end up in Bill’s rack. She just always assumed that Bill would be in said rack _with_ her. 

To add to the many cruel curveballs the universe sent Laura’s way, she slept alone every night. A fact made worse only because it came after nausea-inducing Diloxin treatments.

Bill and Cottle had conspired against her and they insisted she stay on board the Bucket during these grueling cycles of chemo. She had so many battles to fight with the press and the quorum and her illness that the issue of where she slept made for an easy surrender. Truthfully she wanted to be here. She _wanted_ to be with Bill.

But because Bill is, was, and always will be the consummate gentleman, he switched shifts of duty so she could have privacy at night while he worked; and he slept during the day. If there even was a day out here in space. Regardless, this wasn’t exactly the cohabitation plan she had imagined.

And she had imagined.

When her imagination was at its best, she would conjure a scenario where she was with him back on Caprica. This would be in some kind of alternate universe where the Cylons had never attacked. Maybe she would have called him to meet for coffee after his commission was over. She had been impressed by his speech after all, and perhaps she would have felt she owed him an apology for antagonizing him upon their first meeting, _“I heard you were one of those people...”_ They would have flirted and argued (or more likely argued and then flirted) and she would have lured him back to her house and...

It was difficult for her to imagine what he would wear out of uniform, but there was no difficulty at all imagining his underwear now that she lived in the same space as his laundry basket. Regardless of what the civilian clothes would have been, she’d dispense of them with haste and never let him leave her bed. Sometimes her imagination made her chuckle. That was an extreme scenario, even for her.

But Laura Roslin lived in a world of extremes. Right now she was dealing with the extreme insomnia following today’s treatment. She knew she was lucky to be invited into Bill’s quarters to stay in a proper bed. But every night before falling asleep Laura was grappling between gratitude and frustration. The twinge of arousal from the distinctly ‘Bill Adama’ scented sheets drove that internal fight. Then there were other nights when she would crawl into bed only to find that the sheets had been freshly laundered. The lack of his smell made her ache. Both scenarios were maddening reminders of what she didn’t have. 

Real sexual arousal had been vacant from her life since the Diloxin started. Too sick. Too tired. Laying in his bed with her head on his pillow; it felt like she was aroused but from behind a veil, a shadow of her normal physical response to Bill’s presence. Which up until the start of Diloxin treatments had been strong. Even way back in the early days when her aide (sweet Billy) talked about instituting a new initiative to “shower with a friend” to conserve water and perhaps promote procreation, she immediately thought of being with Bill under the spray. Touching and kissing... _a glutton for punishment,_ she’d thought of herself. She knew a shower with him would neither conserve water nor lead to a pregnancy. But her imagination liked it anyway. 

It was easier to talk herself out of indulging those thoughts back when she was on chamalla extract. She got distracted by the oddity and excitement that came with the visions and the “Pythia” of it all; though she couldn’t push aside the occasional vivid dream. And she liked that the Chamalla did that. Subconscious drug-driven indulgences suited her just fine. Because a president doesn’t have time for sex with the top military brass. It wouldn’t be wise. In fact it would be as unwise as a president frakking their Secretary of Education.

  
Ugh...Richard Adar. Poor Richard. Not only was he dead now but Laura had never been as attracted to Richard on her healthiest day as she was to Bill on her sickest. In Laura’s imaginary alternate reality it would have been so easy to end that torrid affair.

She sighed and tossed in the bed to try and get comfortable and caught the scent of Bill again. _Bill_...

Navel gazing now, she thought herself quite stupid for denying herself the pleasure of having Bill on New Caprica. Though the simple act of getting stoned and stargazing with him had been beautiful. Waking up wrapped in each other’s arms, well...she could not remember a better nights sleep. His next trip down to that rock would have been their chance to advance the relationship. An implicit agreement between them. She’d seen evidence of his arousal waking up in the sandbags. _Good to know the feeling is mutual, and your ship can still fly Admiral_. But the Cylons saw to it that he never set foot on that disgusting planet again. And then it was back to business.

Even though her attraction to Bill was not as strong after starting chemo, she could not lay in this warm and comfortable bed with his scent all around her without certain thoughts overcoming her. She knew from prior attempts in this rack that if she touched herself she would not be able to find release. Maybe it was because she needed the real flesh and blood Admiral rather than a shadow of his scent, or maybe it was the cancer and/or the chemo pulling her away and out of her body and certain sensations were lost forever.... Tonight, she could not take it for another second.

At that she got up, found her slippers, and started walking. She did not care how late it was, or how tired she was, or the fact she was walking around in her pajamas, she had to move. It felt good to walk. She was without destination, just wanting to feel her blood pumping, even through the exhaustion. She’d been going down her third or fourth causeway when she heard her name echoing. It was Bill.

“Yes, Bill.” She stated calmly before turning around to face him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m walking. Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugged while giving him a half-smile as they walked towards each other.

“You look tired.” He said.

“You really know how to lay on the charm and flatter a girl, Admiral.” She teased. She was so tired, decorum escaped her and she ran her fingertips over the piping of his uniform collar.

“I’m worried about you, Laura.” there was nothing flirtatious or teasing in his tone. And the look on his face broke her a little. Her illness was affecting him more than she wanted to admit.

“I’m taking care of myself, Bill.” He clenched his jaw and his fists. A habit she knew after these years, that meant he was holding back, not saying what he really wanted to say. She started walking again, this time in the direction of his (their) quarters. He eventually followed. _Stubborn old goat_.

In her very best teacher voice she explained, “When you can’t sleep, the best thing to do is get up and walk. Tire yourself out. Then you can go back to bed and maybe if you’re lucky, actually sleep. You see? I’m taking care of it.”

They walked together in companionable silence the rest of the way back. When they got to the hatch he hesitated. “I’ll go back to CIC. Let you get that sleep you were working towards.”

“Get in that bed Bill.” She gestured while used her most direct and presidential tone.

“You get in it, Laura. For fraks sake!” He yelled, slamming the hatch behind them.

She decided to change tactics, softening her tone. She didn’t want to fight. “Bill, I fully intend to get in bed. With you.”

There went those clenched fists and jaw again. “We’ve talked about this.”

“No Bill, we haven’t. We’ve only avoided talking about it. Sideways conversations about unbuilt cabins and wasted opportunities don’t count.” Her tone turning dangerous.

“I can’t be an effective Admiral if I’m frakking the president of the Colonies.”

“Who said anything about frakking? We both need sleep. Rest. Bill, just rest with me. We can’t go on the way we have been, neither of us are sleeping.” She took his hand and pulled him towards her. Their eyes locked.

“You know you’re kidding yourself if you think we can be comfortable crammed together in that single rack.” This was good. He was smiling. _Gods he is sexy when he smiles_.

“Don’t make jokes. If we can sleep on a pile of sandbags in the dirt, then one of the last beds left in the universe should be a cake walk.” She started to undo the buttons of his uniform jacket, eventually pulling it off of him.

“You want to just go to sleep?” He asked as his knuckles grazed the t-shirt covering her waist. She could feel the internal struggle between his brain and his hands.

“That’s what I want....” His hands stilled, clenched back to fists, and he looked up at her her. “Okay,” she rolled her eyes, “One of the things.” 

“I’m tired enough to tell you that I want other things too. But my personal want isn’t as important as...”

“Bill?” She cut him off with a sharp tone and a gentle hand to his chest. “We are both too tired for anything else right now anyway. So please stop talking.” He stopped.

She crawled into bed after taking off her sweatpants and kicking them to the corner. Having to share the rack would make things considerably warmer. She lifted the blankets, inviting him. He was staring at the pants she kicked in the corner.

“I know, I know, I’m a messy roommate. I promise I’ll pick them up first thing.”

He made a deep breath and took a beat. This could go either way. She may not have convinced him beyond his stubborn nature. _Just come to bed_. She was willing him. Finally he was toeing off his shoes and pulling off his socks and pants. He looked over at her lying in the rack and tossed his garments to the same corner, hiding a smile. She chuckled. _Gotcha_. 

After a few short minutes of arranging limbs and gentle caresses, they both fell asleep. Finally they were safe and together in the same bed.

It was better than Laura could have ever imagined.


End file.
